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Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Sky Erikson, twenty-one-year-old goody, goody finally leaves her cruel life behind her and move in with her older sister Lake, the only other person who knows the hell she lived in.
She knew her sister lived with a couple of guys from a band she manages ‘Risen Knights,’ but when she accidently meets Dominic, the lead guitarist of the band-well more like meeting him when being on all fours with her ass in the air, she wasn’t expecting to feel this electric pull towards him.
Dominic is a player, but when he meets her in his kitchen on the floor, her tight ass in front of his face he knew he wanted her, but finding out she is Lake’s younger sister was one thing, but finding out she is a virgin is another. Dominic only has one rule and that’s never to sleep with a virgin.
He tries to keep his distance but after their lead singer doesn’t show up to a gig, Sky takes her spot, in doing so he starts to see her in a new light. Seeing a side to her he never expected.
Now being spotted and offered an opportunity of a lifetime, the catch being Sky has to be their new lead singer.
Life as a rock star wasn’t in her plans but how could she say no?
Now having life in the spotlight, feelings get stronger, new people trying to pull them a part, the past waiting to destroy it all.
New adult contemporary romance with mature content. Recommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

J.L. Ostle was born in Antrim, Northern Ireland, now living in Carlisle, England. J.L. Ostle is a full time mother looking after her cute, active little boy.
When she she hasn't got her head stuck in a book or writing, she's watching movies, or doing activities with her friends and their children.

U.S. Navy SEAL Dante Raske is all about guarding his heart and serving his country, but now that he’s busted his knee on a mission, he needs something to keep his mind busy. Playing bodyguard for a sexy little country starlet until he’s cleared for duty? Just what the doctor ordered.
Chrissie Tate refuses to be a one-hit wonder. If she’s going to take care of her family, she can’t let herself get distracted—especially not by the hot as hell Navy SEAL hired to be her bodyguard. But when a crazed fan attacks, she changes her tune. She’ll keep Dante around…if he agrees to teach her self-defense.
Except their close-contact lessons quickly become steamy bedroom sessions. And it’s up to this Navy SEAL to save Chrissie’s career—and his heart—before their explosive passion consumes them both…

She turned her attention to the man who’d rushed in to save the day. Oh, he had muscles all right. But she suspected he didn’t spend all of his time in the gym.
“Stay down,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome growled. Jared whimpered and looked as if he might cry. The man who’d rushed in and rescued her turned to her.
His expression softened as his deep brown eyes scanned her from head to toe. A lock of his wavy, dark hair fell over his forehead.
Her hero looked as if he’d stolen Patrick Dempsey’s hair and Channing Tatum’s muscles. And to her impromptu rescue she was wearing a witch’s wig that had been on clearance at the Halloween store.
But without the ugly wig, someone might recognize her, and she’d be stuck signing autographs instead of rehearsing.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked.
“Fine,” she gasped, still fighting to regain her equilibrium. His brow furrowed as he reached into one of the many pockets lining his shorts. He withdrew a cell phone. “Would you like me to call the police?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Really, I’m fine.”
His concern deepened as if the word “fine” meant something altogether different to him.
She offered him her best smile, the one that won over audiences night after night.
“I saw what happened,” he said. “I can give a statement. It won’t be your boyfriend’s word against yours.”
“Chris—” Jared started.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Chrissie said, cutting Jared off before he could reveal her identity to the stranger. “We’re backup singers. Both of us. We’re shooting a music video out here later today. And we wanted to get in some practice.” She forced a fake laugh. “Clearly, we need it.”
The man with the movie star muscles took a step back. “Music video?”
“Uh-huh. The song is about lust, love, and well...” She bit her lower lip and glanced at her feet. “Sex. It’s a country song.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, drawing attention to his biceps.
One touch. Just one.
But she fought the temptation. She needed the handsome stranger to continue with his hike through the canyons before he recognized her.
Or decided to call the cops despite her protests.

Author Bio:

After several years on the other side of the publishing industry, Sara Jane Stone bid goodbye to her sales career to pursue her dream - writing romance novels. Armed with a firm belief that dreams do come true, Sara Jane sat down at her keyboard to write fun, sexy stories like the ones she loved to read.
Sara Jane currently resides in Brooklyn, New York with her very supportive real-life hero, two lively young children, and a lazy Burmese cat.

June Mayson and Evan Barrister’s whirlwind courtship resulted in a secret marriage right before he left for boot camp. Evan knows deep in his gut that June is too good for him, but after getting a taste of the beautiful life they can have together, he’s unwilling to let her go. June promises to wait for him, knowing neither time or distance will ever change her feelings for Evan—that is until she’s served with divorce papers while he’s overseas and she’s forced to let him go.

Her marriage and divorce a well-kept secret, the last person June expects to run into when she moves back to her hometown is Evan. Angry over the past, she does everything within her power to ignore the pull she feels whenever he is near. But how can she ignore the pain she sees every time their eyes meet? How can she fight the need to soothe him even if she knows she’s liable to get hurt once again?

Is it possible for June and Evan to find their way back to each other again? Or will they be stopped by an outside force before they ever have a shot?

Prologue

Looking at my reflection in the mirror across from me, I cringe. My hair is a disaster, there are bags under my eyes, and the nightgown I have on isn’t even one of the cute ones I normally wear. It’s the one my sister, December, got me as a joke, but I wear it occasionally, because its comfortable, even if it was made for a woman three times my age. Resting my elbows on the desk in front of me, I run my fingers through my hair, pulling the strands back away from my face.

“I hate men,” I whisper into the empty interrogation room, where I was told to wait over an hour ago after the police kicked in my door and dragged me from my bed. Lifting my gaze, I look at myself in the mirror again and vow that whenever I get out of the mess my ex-boyfriend has gotten me into, I’m going to learn how to be a lesbian, even if I’m not sure that’s actually possible.

“June Mayson.” Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the now open door behind me, and my eyes meet those of a man who reminds me of my dad. He looks to be in his mid-forties, and is one of those men time has been kind to. He’s built, with dark hair that’s cut short and parted on the side. His eyes are a blue that stands out against his dark lashes and tan skin. “I’m Officer Mitchell, and this is Officer Plymouth.” He nods behind him and is followed in by a man who must be playing the roll off ‘Bad Cop’, judging by the frown on his face and the look he gives me when our eyes meet. Time hasn’t been as kind to him; he looks like he has enjoyed one too many beers. His middle is soft, and his skin doesn’t look healthy.

Nodding, I cross my arms over my chest and run my hands down the bare skin of my biceps that’s chilled from the cool air coming from the vent above me.

“Would you like something to drink?” Officer Mitchell asks as he walks fully into the room.

Shaking my head, I mutter, “No, thank you.”

“Hot chocolate?” he offers, and I feel tears burn the back of my eyes. Since I was little, whenever I was having a bad day, my dad would offer me hot chocolate. His hot chocolate has magical powers that always make everything seem okay, but I doubt police station hot chocolate would have the same effect.

“No, thanks. I’d just like to know why I’m here,” I tell him as he takes a seat in the metal chair across from me and places a thick folder on the table between us.

“We may be here awhile, Miss Mayson, so I’d like you to be comfortable,” he says gently, and I look at Officer Plymouth, who is leaning against the wall, then back to him.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Mitchell, but I’d really like to get to the point. I have class in a few hours and I’d really like to make it on time.”

Surprisingly, Officer Plymouth slips off his suit jacket and walks it over to me, placing it around my shoulders.

‘Thank you,” I whisper up at him, and his eyes soften around the edges. Pulling my eyes from him, my gaze goes back toward Officer Mitchell.

“How long have you known Lane Diago?” Officer Mitchell asks, and I sit up a little taller.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” I tell him, and he opens the file folder, fanning out a few pictures of my ex-boyfriend, Aaron, and me directly in front of me. Each of them were taken while we were a couple, showing we had been followed more than a few times. Him coming to my apartment…him kissing me outside my car…at the store, walking hand-in-hand down the aisles…at the movies…out to dinner…both of us doing normal couple things.

“You mean Aaron?”

“That what he told you his name was?” he asks, and I nod looking up at him.

“I’ve known him for about a year,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to the pictures again, realizing I actually didn’t know him, since his name isn’t even Aaron.

“How long have you two been dating?” he inquires, and my eyes drop to the pictures once more.

“We dated for about four months. I broke up with him a month ago,” I tell him truthfully as a feeling of sadness hits me unexpectedly. I wasn’t in love with Aaron—or Lane. Not even close. But I cared about him, and believed he cared about me as well. That was, until he sent me a text to meet him at his house. When I got there, one of his roommates let me in, and I found him up in his room with Susie Detrei’s mouth around his cock, proving I was wrong about him.

“You were close,” Officer Mitchell states, and I nod because we were, or I thought we were. “Can you tell me who this man is?” he asks, pulling out a picture of Aaron’s—Lane’s cousin, or at least the guy he told me was his cousin.

“Overhear them talking?” I ask, looking at a picture of Cody and Lane sitting in what looks like a bar, Lane with his favorite beer in his hand, and Cody with a short, wide glass with dark liquid and ice on the bar top in front of him, and his hand wrapped around it while he laughs at something.

“Overhear them talking about anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Maybe if you told me exactly why I’m here, I can give you the information you’re looking for.”

“Lane Diago’s uncle is one of the biggest distributors of illegal narcotics in Alabama, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, and South Carolina.”

“What?” I whisper as my eyes focus on one of the pictures of Lane and me standing outside my apartment. I was wearing a short colorful summer dress and gold strappy sandals, and Lane had on a pair of black cargo shorts and a plain white tee. His head was bent toward mine, my hand was resting against his chest, and his was wrapped tight around my hip. It was our third date and our first kiss. I had waited forever to even go on a date with him, because I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I finally gave in to him, because he was so persistent. He asked me out every time we saw each other, and he was always dramatic in the way he did it.

“Did you ever see—”

“I never saw anything,” I cut him off. “Lane didn’t even smoke pot, and almost everyone I know smokes pot,” I whisper, pulling my eyes from the picture to look at him.

“You two were together a lot. He would have you drop him places. My men saw you on more than one occasion.”

“To friends’ houses,” I tell him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “If he asked me to drop him to a friend’s or to run him somewhere when we were going out, I would do it, but I never saw him do anything illegal.”

“Do you understand you can go to prison if we find out you spent any of the money he earned from selling drugs on things for yourself.”

Laughing, I cover my face with my hands and lay my head on the table while I try to pull myself together. I probably shouldn’t be laughing right now but its either laugh or cry.

“What do you find funny about this?” Officer Plymouth asks, and I lift my head to look at him.

“I paid for us to do things more than once, and he even asked me for gas money a couple of times. I never, not once, took money from him, not even for a coffee,” I tell him, and his eyes go to Officer Mitchell, who mutters, “Fuck.”

“He cheated on me a month ago, and I haven’t talked to him since then,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.

“We have time stamps for phone calls between the two of you over the last month.”

“Did you ever look at how long those calls lasted?” I ask, knowing that if he did, he would know we didn’t actually talk. “He called. He called over and over. Finally, I had to pick up to tell him to stop calling me. I didn’t want anything to do with him a month ago, and I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with him now.”

“I’m sorry. I swear that if I knew anything, I would help you out, but I don’t. Lane never told me anything, and I sure as hell didn’t see anything. If I had, I would have talked to my uncle about it.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see anything, hear anything?”

“I’m sure,” I tell him, wishing I did know something, not because I’m a rat, but because I know what drugs can do to people. I know not everyone dies from using drugs, not everyone’s life goes to shit from using them, but my best roommate freshmen year of college overdosed and died, and that was only after she turned into a completely different person. Someone I didn’t like much. Someone I couldn’t trust. So, there’s no way I would ever protect anyone who is responsible for supplying those drugs, no matter how much I care about them.

“Would you be willing to get back in with Lane?” Officer Plymouth asks, bringing my attention to him. My heart flips in my chest at the thought, but I don’t get a chance to answer, because someone bangs hard on the glass mirror in front of me, causing my image to go funny.

About the Author:

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who's husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She's married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it's beauty.

For years, Ryleigh has ignored her heart's desire and its ache for the man she's always wanted. Since coming home after years of being away, she discovers her love for him hasn't changed. The only problem is she's no longer the girl she once was.

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Shy girl Brooks Happ wants nothing more than for her first kiss to come from someone who's her complete opposite, Confident Sebastian Kain fits the bill. Problem is, the world won't cooperate. Time and time again, Brooks's first kiss is interrupted. A cute, funny romantic comedy sure to make you laugh.

Juliette Taylor never saw Tanner Brady coming and as much as she swears he's all kinds of wrong for her and that she wants nothing to do with him, he's out to show her otherwise. Never in a million years did she think a laid-back tattoo artist could be the man for her, but he's determined to show her that she's his kind of crazy.

I instinctively reach out to grab something to hold on to in an effort to halt my fall. Silly really, because I'm stepping out of the taxi right in front of the hotel lobby doors and there is nothing to grab hold of.

Well, generally there's not.

Today, however, there is.

"I've got you," a man says as his hands slide under my arms and he stops my collapse.

This all happens in a blur, but at the sound of his deep voice, my head snaps up so I can look at him.

Oh. My.

Mesmerising blue eyes capture mine for a moment before I drop my gaze to appreciate his sexy, bearded smile. In my experience, those kinds of lips promise many things that a girl like me doesn't have the time for. I'm all for fun sexy times, but it's the heartbreak a man like him promises that I don't have the time for.

Lips don't lie.

Neither do tattoos, and as my attention diverts from his lips to his neck and down to his arms, I see tattoo after tattoo.

Uh-uh.

Tattoos and I do not go together.

I gather myself and look back up into his eyes. Steadying myself, I move out of his hold and say, "Thank you."

He's stopped smiling, but his lips twitch and his eyes twinkle. "You're welcome."

I narrow my gaze on him. Why is he looking at me like that? Like I amuse him. "Are you laughing at me?"

He continues to watch me with that same lip-twitching gaze. "Do I look like I'm laughing?"

He runs his fingers through his brown hair. He's got one of those haircuts where it's really short on the sides and the rest is styled into that sexy, tousled look—the kind of look that makes my belly flutter. His voice distracts me from thinking about his hair when he replies, "Let's just say I'm amused when a woman, who is clearly attracted to me, flinches at my tattoos. They're just ink on skin; they don't tell you about the kind of man I am underneath all that art."